if you find that this cheap life ever moved you
by auroracode
Summary: After a disastrous mission, all Chuuya wants is to take care of his injuries and go to sleep, unfortunately, his ex-partner decides it's a good day to break into his house


Chuuya's hands shook with a mixture of pain and exhaustion as he fumbled with the keys to his apartment, he'd barely managed to get the right key into the lock when his injured leg decided to try and collapse, causing him to stumble. Biting his lip to keep from groaning in pain, he braced himself against the wall with an arm, trying to keep the weight off his leg as he returned to struggling with the lock.

It was five in the morning and he'd been awake for almost thirty-six hours, all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep and that's what he would have been doing had everything on his last mission gone according to plan. It hadn't though, their information had been faulty and what was supposed to be a simple operation against a group of smugglers had turned into a bloodbath.

They'd been told that it was a small organization with less than twenty people and no ability users, so only a small force led by Chuuya had been sent to stake out the location and eliminate them. Once the smugglers had arrived, however, they'd discovered that not only did the enemies forces number closer to sixty but that two of them were ability users. One of them who seemed to have the ability to control shadows had immediately gone after Chuuya, accurately judging him to be the biggest threat.

They'd done their best to separate Chuuya from his men, lengths of shadows that For The Tainted Sorrow couldn't affect stabbing at him whenever he tried to rejoin them. While he and the shadow user were engaged in their dance of dodging and stabbing, their partner had gone after Chuuya's men, using their ability to ice their feet to the ground and jam their guns.

It left them as little more than sitting ducks for the enemy and when Chuuya had noticed the guns trained on his subordinates, all lined up like a firing squad, he'd thrown caution to the wind and raced towards them, more focused on getting to their side then dodging the attacks aimed at him. His actions had earned him a deep slash across his side, but he'd made it to his men and used his ability to smash the ice anchoring them to the ground.

There was nothing he could do for their guns though and since most of his men weren't proficient in hand to hand, not that it would do them much good against an enemy who was shooting at them, it left Chuuya as their only real fighting force.

He'd barked at one of his subordinates to call for backup before throwing himself into the fray. Had he been alone, or at least with someone like Akutagawa who could use his ability to protect himself, the fight would have been a great deal easier. Having to protect his defenseless men though meant his attention was split three different ways; defending himself, defending his men, and eliminating the enemy.

He was aware that a good portion of people in the Mafia would have focused on only taking care of themselves and not care what happened to the lower ranks, but Chuuya was someone who lived for other people more than himself, the thought that the men under his command were disposable was one that never even crossed his mind. In the end, it only took half an hour for the requested reinforcements to arrive in the form of the Black Lizard, but it felt like an eternity as Chuuya struggled to keep as many people alive as he could.

He'd done his best to keep as many bullets as he could away from his men, he'd taken out the ice user as soon as he could to prevent them from restricting movement, had tried to keep the shadow users attention focused on him; it hadn't been enough though, by the time help arrived most of his men were down, and even Chuuya himself wasn't unscathed.

A stab from one of the shadow wielders tendrils had gone right through his leg and another slash across his cheek as well. There was a bullet lodged in his right shoulder as well, obtained when he'd been momentarily distracted and let the barrier his ability formed around his body slip for just a moment.

He'd shoved the pain to the side though as the fight had come to an end, kept it relegated to the back of his mind like he did all the other aches and pains in his body. If there was one good thing that came from the way Corruption affected his body, it was that he'd learned very well how to ignore pain and pretend he was fine.

That skill had allowed him to escape the Mafia's doctors without being checked up on, they already had their hands full trying to save as many of Chuuya's men as they could, so they had been all too happy to believe Chuuya's lie that he was fine, just tired, his only injury was the one on his cheek and he could take care of that himself at home. Mori, who despite being the boss hadn't lost any of his skills as a doctor, had come down to the infirmary to help with surgeries and he'd given Chuuya a knowing look as he'd left but he hadn't called him out, merely told him to take a few days off and pretended not to notice the bandages he swiped off a nearby shelf.

Now though, as Chuuya finally managed to get his door unlocked, he almost wished he'd fessed up to his injuries and let himself be taken care of, if he had then he'd probably be blissfully unconscious by now instead of limping tiredly into his apartment. Chuuya hated any kind of hospital or infirmary though, hated the vague memories they stirred up in his head, hated having people see him while he was weak, hated how they always insisted on dosing him with painkillers.

It wasn't that Chuuya liked being in pain or anything, he wasn't a masochist or anything, but he was used to dealing with it and would rather endure then be drugged. His biology tended to burn through things much quicker than normal and so they always ended up having to give him the strong kind, at a dose that would be lethal to a normal human. He hated how it made him feel, how easily it took away the feeling of being in control of his own body and left his brain foggy and confused; if he was going to be loopy than it would be alone in the safety of his own apartment, with the ones he had hidden in his bathroom cabinet.

Of course, that decision meant it would be a while yet before he got to sleep, there were things he had to do first. He'd have to shower and rinse all the dirt and blood off of himself; then he'd need to remove the bandages he'd roughly wrapped around his injuries so he wouldn't bleed to death walking home, and get them cleaned out and possibly sewn up before rebandaging them with fresh bandages; there was the bullet to dig out of his shoulder as well and then maybe he'd try and make something to eat, the last food he'd had was a bagel and a cup of coffee early yesterday morning.

All of his thoughts and plans ground to a halt though as he turned around from hanging up his coat to see his ex-partner sitting on his couch, drinking a bottle of his wine.

"What the h*ll are you doing in my apartment?" Chuuya growled, though his voice came out more tired sounding than threatening. The annoyance commonly known as Dazai grinned,

"Chuuya! You're back!" He crowed, getting up from his chair "I was bored and I thought who better to entertain me than my least favorite hat rack! By the way, your security is terrible, it took me less than a minute to get in here." He looked far too pleased with himself, considering he'd broken into Chuuya's home, stolen his wine and was making Chuuya's already miserable morning even worse.

Chuuya wanted nothing more than to stomp over and punch him in his stupid face, and he started to do just that before his leg apparently decided it was on Dazai's side and tried to give out again, forcing him to lean against the back of his couch for support. For a moment an expression that could've been mistaken for concern flashed across Dazai's face, before being replaced with his usual infuriating expression.

"Eh? Is Chuuya drunk? You look terrible!"

"Try looking in a mirror sometime, you useless mummy!" Chuuya snarled, his already short fuse long since burned up, dealing with Dazai took extreme amounts of patience on even the best days and this was not one of them. He wanted to clean up, lick his wounds, eat and then collapse into his bed for half a day, not deal with his ex-partner.

Since said man stood in the middle of the quickest path to Chuuya's bedroom, meaning he'd either have to go around or shove past him to get there; alternatively he could try to just throw him out of his apartment, but given his injuries and the fact that he couldn't use his ability on Dazai, he doubted he would be successful. Making up his mind he pushed past Dazai, shoulder checking him on the way which sent a jolt of pain through his bullet wound, but it gave Chuuya a petty sense of satisfaction when the younger man stumbled slightly.

Reaching the doorway to his bedroom, he turned, pointing a finger at Dazai,

"I'm going to go clean up and when I get back, you'd better be gone!" Whirling back around he limped into his bedroom, missing the look of confusion and worry that flashed over his ex-partner's face.

Once in his bedroom Chuuya had to resist the urge to just collapse onto his bed as he stripped off his clothes, dropping them on the floor; normally he would take the time to remove all the knives he had hidden in them and put them in the hamper, but he was too exhausted at the moment. He'd have to make sure to later though, last time he'd forgotten it had destroyed his washing machine.

He didn't bother removing his bandages as he entered the bathroom, it probably would be more hygienic for him to take them off, but he didn't want to risk washing off the blood scabs on his wounds and starting to bleed again while he was showering. He'd be changing them in a bit anyway, better to just leave it be.

Pulling down the showerhead he let the warm water cascade over him, washing away the sweat, grime, and blood that had built up over the course of the day. Pouring shampoo into his hands, he ran his fingers through his hair, scrubbing away at the blood staining it a darker red; he'd been lucky that his dark clothes had hidden most of the stains on his walk home, keeping him from thinking about how not all of it belonged to him or his enemies.

Laid bare as he was now, with blood-stained water dripping off his body onto the floor, it was hard not to think about the subordinates he'd lost. He'd been in charge, he should have done a better job protecting them, should have made sure that none of them died! He hadn't though, and now he had to live with the guilt of their deaths on his shoulder, had to plan their funerals and deal with the knowledge that some of them had families that would never know what happened to them.

It was days like this that he desperately missed the time when he and Dazai had been partners, it had been an annoying and frustrating partnership at times, but there had been so much less to worry about. It had usually only been the two of them, no subordinates to worry about, and even when there were he'd always known that Dazai had his back, that he could throw himself into the fight without having to worry about keeping track of every little thing. There hadn't even been a need for words most of the time, they'd just instinctively known were the other most needed them to be.

Those times were long over though.

Turning off the water, Chuuya stood and wrapped a towel around himself, hissing slightly as the movement made his bandages rub up against the wound in his side. His hair was soaking wet but he didn't have the time to dry it right now so he simply wrung it out as best he could before grabbing a hair tie and pulling it up into a high ponytail, he'd probably end up with water dripping down his back, but at least it was out of the way.

Wandering back into his bedroom, he left the towel on the floor as he threw on clean underwear, followed by sweatpants and an old t-shirt. It was a little warm out for the sweats, but they were comfortable and would be easy to roll up so he could access the wound in his leg.

Exiting his room he scowled at the sight of Dazai who was now sitting on his couch, flipping through a book; it didn't look like the suicide guide he often carried around, so it must have been one he'd stolen off Chuuya's shelf.

"Why are you still here?" He hadn't really been expecting that Dazai actually would leave just because he'd told him to, but he'd hoped that maybe for once in his life he'd taken notice of how someone else was feeling and act in the proper manner. No such luck it seemed. At the sound of Chuuya's voice, Dazai snapped the book shut and stood walking over to stand in front of Chuuya.

"I told you, I was bored, and I still am. Besides," He leaned in and down until they were eye level, a serious look in his eyes that caught Chuuya off guard, it didn't match with the smile on his face. "Chuuya's hurt, that's unusual."

"Just what makes you think I'm hurt? I'm fine, which is more than can be said for you if you don't get out of here." He brought up his right hand to try and shove Dazai backward out of his space, only for the man to catch it. Dazai's grip on his wrist sent a shiver of pain up Chuuya's arm and he wasn't entirely able to bite back the hiss of pain it elicited, earning him a look from Dazai.

"Well for one, that," He drawled, looking suitably unimpressed at Chuuya's actions, "You're also limping and seem to be favoring your left side, even if I wasn't a genius it wouldn't be hard to figure out."

Leave it to Dazai to flout his own ego at any opportunity.

"So, what happened?" Sometimes Chuuya really wondered whether Dazai had any self-awareness at all, did he really think that after turning traitor and abandoning the Mafia, he could just demand answers from Chuuya that weren't any of his business? They weren't partners anymore, there was no need Dazai to know anything about his injuries or what had happened on the mission and he wasn't about to tell him just to satisfy his boredom.

"That's Mafia business," Chuuya sneered, wrenching his wrist out of Dazai's grasp. "So unless you're planning to rejoin…"

"Eh? Chuuya! I didn't realize you missed me so much!"

"That's what you got out of that?"

"Really though, what happened?" Dazai questioned again, "Except for when you use Corruption, you don't usually get hurt."

"Well maybe if I still had a partner to watch my back, I wouldn't have gotten hurt!" The bitter words were spat out of Chuuya's mouth before he has time to even think them though, belatedly he realized that he'd just admitted to Dazai that he was hurt, but he was too distracted by the flinch his words had caused from Dazai, to care. The man recovered quickly though, an amicable smile appearing on his face,

"True, true, Chuuya gets rather reckless without someone holding his leash." The curiosity Chuuya had been feeling at Dazai's reaction to his words disappeared, replaced by a familiar urge to punch the man in the face. He had not missed his tendency to treat him like a dog. "Ah but even when reckless it's still hard to hurt Chuuya thanks to his ability. So something must have happened, something your ability couldn't affect…"

Chuuya let out a sigh, for all that Dazai liked to call him a dog, when something drew his attention he turned into one himself; like a bloodhound he would follow the scent of whatever had caught his interest, never stopping until he found out what he wanted to know.

"You're not going to leave until I tell you, are you?" Of course, Chuuya doubted that Dazai would leave even if he did tell him, at least not immediately, but he'd definitely cause more of a hassle and stay longer if he didn't.

"Oh, chibi's smarter than he looks!" Chuuya's hands clenched into fists at the mockery of both his height and intelligence, forcing him to take a deep breath to calm himself.

"We had bad information, " He began, wandering over to his kitchen table and pulling out a chair to sit on, he could tell his leg was about reaching its limit and the last thing he wanted to do was fall in front of Dazai. "There weren't supposed to be any ability users, but there turned out to be two of them."

Chuuya's nail's dug into the palms of his hands, leaving painful half-moon indents, as he once again recalled the night's events. "One of them managed to freeze up my men's guns so they couldn't really do anything, and the other..." For a moment a hand went to his side, hovering over the slash wound there, before settling in his lap. "The other one could control shadows, I'm not sure that if they could only form them into blades or if they could do more than that, but they're dead now so I suppose it doesn't really matter. Gravity didn't affect them though, I couldn't do anything to defend myself but dodge, and my men…"

Now that he'd started talking Chuuya found it almost impossible to stop, words and thoughts spilling out like a flowing river, pulled along by a desperate need to just get it all out.

"I went in there with eighteen men Dazai, and only one of them was able to walk out with me. I should have done a better job of protecting them." At some point, while Chuuya had been speaking, Dazai had pulled out a chair and moved to sit across from him,

"You did your best Chuuya." He said, and the words felt strange to Chuuya's ears, they weren't something the old Dazai would have said, the old Dazai would have questioned just why he cared so much about what happened to his subordinates. It occurred to him then just how much Dazai had changed, he was still an annoying person and Chuuya was sure he could still be cruel if he wanted to, but something about him was lighter, more genuine. Leaving the Mafia had been good for him, the Agency had been good for him.

"I still should have done better." Chuuya muttered and Dazai sighed before standing up.

"Your first aid kit is under the bathroom sink, right?" He asked, not waiting for an answer before heading to go fetch it, leaving Chuuya behind to blink in confusion. Why was Dazai looking for his first aid kit? And how did he know where it was? Chuuya scowled as an explanation crossed his mind,

"Oi, how many times have you broken into my apartment!" His only answer was the sound of laughter from the bathroom. Was this why his wine supply seemed to be disappearing faster than usual?

Dazai came back into the room carrying Chuuya's first aid kit, it was the same one the two of them had had when they were teenagers sharing an apartment; Dazai hadn't taken it with him when he'd left and Chuuya had seen no need to get a new one. Dazai placed the kit on the floor next to Chuuya, opening it up and beginning to riffle around in it, prompting Chuuya to glare at him.

"The h*ll do you think you're doing?" He questioned,

"You're hurt." Dazai told him, as if that explained everything.

"Yeah? I can patch myself up." Dazai raised an unimpressed eyebrow,

"Your hands are shaking, your face is pale and you look like you could fall asleep any second. I don't think you're in any shape to take care of yourself, just let me do it." Chuuya wanted to argue, to deny he needed any help, but all it had taken was one glance down at his hands to confirm that Dazai was right. He hated it, it wasn't like Dazai had never patched him up before, but they had been partners back then, things were different now. It felt too much like walking back into the fire, like asking to get burned, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice.

"Fine." He muttered, looking up from his hands. Dazai had returned to rooting through the first aid kit while he thought, and at the sound of Chuuya's affirmation held out a hand with two pills in it. Chuuya hesitated and didn't take them, prompting a frown from Dazai.

"You're going to want them, I can tell you're already in pain and it's going to hurt more once we start."

"I can deal with pain."

"But that doesn't mean you have to." Chuuya hesitated a moment longer before grabbing the pills and dry swallowing them, it was a high dose, had to be for it to even work, which meant he was going to be out of it for a bit; Dazai was right though he didn't have to deal with it right now, in several hours the constant hum of pain under his skin from Corruption would return and the wounds he'd gotten would ache again, but just for now he could let himself take a reprieve.

Humming in satisfaction, Dazai moved from a kneeling position to sit cross-legged in front of Chuuya's chair.

"Hmm, I suppose I should ask what injuries you actually have." Chuuya gave him an exasperated look,

"You think?" He sighed, "I've got a stab wound through my left leg..."

"That you walked home on." Chuuya glared at the interruption,

"That I walked home on." He confirmed, "There's also a slash on my side, I'm not really sure how deep it is, it was dark out when I wrapped it. And then there's a bullet in my right shoulder you're going to have to dig out." Dazai's eyes widened at that,

"You actually got shot?" Chuuya glared, something he seemed to be doing a lot during the last hour,

"I was distracted." Dazai hummed thoughtfully,

"So you didn't clean any of your injuries, just wrapped them while walking home? You're an idiot."

"I don't want to hear that from a bandage wasting suicide maniac! Besides it's not like I could take the time to clean them, someone would have noticed I was injured!" His eyes dared Dazai to say something, to make some comment about how he should have stayed in the infirmary and let someone deal with his wounds, but the man kept quiet; apparently, he remembered he'd made his fair share of hospital escapes as well.

"Have the painkillers kicked in yet?" He asked, wisely changing the subject, Chuuya shrugged,

"And little, I think." It was hard to tell for sure, but the constant buzz under his skin seemed to have dulled to a hum. "Let's just get this over with."

"Roll up your pants leg." Dazai told him, pulling saline solution and a cloth out of the kit; Chuuya did as he was bidden before also removing the damp bandages. Dazai grabbed his foot examining the wound, it was a few inches above the ankle and had gone straight through to the other side. Grabbing the bottle of saline fluid he poured it over the wound, trying to flush out any dirt or debris stuck in it, before slathering a generous layer of antibacterial cream over it.

Once finished, he grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped it up with the practiced ease that one would expect from a serial bandage waster.

"That's about all I can do for that, just make sure to change the bandage every day, ideally though you ought to also stay off of it for a couple of weeks." It was easy to forget given Dazai's general attitude that he'd been trained by Mori, who was a doctor, he'd assisted in surgeries before and knew his way around wounds. It was only the knowledge of that which kept Chuuya from grumbling at Dazai ordering him around; not that that meant he was planning to listen to him, staying off his feet would require taking time off work and he had too much to do.

"Alright, shirt off now." Dazai ordered, and Chuuya grudgingly complied; as he lifted his shirt over his head he silently noted that his arm didn't hurt despite the movement, the drugs had finally fully kicked in, which meant in another five minutes or so he was probably going to be out of it. It would be nice if Dazai was done and out off his hair before then, but he wasn't holding out hope.

Unwrapping the bandages wrapped around Chuuya's waist, Dazai began the process of cleaning the wound, there were a surprising number of scars littering his torso considering what he could do with his ability. Among them, a thin white one on his back seemed to stand out, a constant reminder of how he'd failed the Sheep.

"This is going to need stitches." Dazai noted, already pulling the needed items out of the kit; Chuuya merely nodded, blinking slowly as he could clear away the fog forming in his mind by doing so. He didn't even feel it as the needle pierced his skin and Dazai sewed up the wound with neat even stitches.

He was pretty sure he must have zoned out, because the next thing he knew Dazai was gently shaking his uninjured shoulder.

"What?" He growled out, though the slight slur of his words removed any heat from them,

"I'm going to move you to the couch before I remove the bullet, you look like you could fall out of your chair at any moment and I'd rather not deal with that." Chuuya wasn't really sure if he nodded his assent or not but he felt Dazai scoop him up and start walking.

"If you get any blood on my couch, I'm killing you." Chuuya mumbled, and he heard Dazai laugh as I'd if it was a funny joke.

"Sorry Chuuya," He informed him, as he sat Chuuya on the couch so that he was leaning against the arm, "But you're not a beautiful woman, so I refuse to be killed by you."

Chuuya's eyes had slid shut, but he opened them again to glare at Dazai and stick out his tongue like the mature twenty-two-year-old he was.

"Any beautiful woman would run the minute you opened your mouth, you're going to end up living forever." Dazai clicked his tongue, picking up a pair of tweezers,

"Those are rude words to be saying to be saying to someone whose going to be digging around in your shoulder." He cautioned, but there was a playful lilt to his tone.

"F*** you." Was Chuuya's slurred reply, and Dazai laughed as he began trying to pull the bullet out of Chuuya's arm.

"Yeah yeah, c' mon let's get this finished and then you can sleep and the next time we meet we can get back to hating each other."

"I don't hate you." Chuuya mumbled, his closed eyes making him miss the way the words nearly made Dazai drop the tweezers.

"What?"

"I said I don't hate you, you're my brother." Chuuya was vaguely aware that he was saying things he never had before, things that he'd locked away in his heart so that he never would, but at that moment he didn't care.

" Eh, Chibi's really out of it, he's saying weird things." Despite the flippant words, Dazai's voice was shaking slightly as he spoke.

"Shut up," Came Chuuya's murmured reply, "I'm being serious, you're stupid and annoying and I'm going to be really upset if I remember this conversation when I wake up, but you need to know, I don't hate you." Dazai had finally managed to grab hold of the bullet and he pulled it out, temporarily dropping it the couch cushion and leaving a stain Chuuya would be furious about later, while he wrapped a clean bandage around the now bullet free wound.

"I betrayed the Mafia though." Dazai stated as he began to clean up the mess. Chuuya nodded,

"You did, but you seem happier. I'm jealous."

" Jealous?" Even with his fogged up thoughts, Chuuya could still hear the confusion and curiosity in that one word, but he didn't reply immediately. The answer to that question was a deeper secret than the one he'd already spoken tonight, and even with his tongue loosened, it had to work to force it's way past his lips.

"You got out." He whispered, "And I don't think I ever will." He didn't see the way that Dazai jolted backward as if he'd been slapped upon hearing those words, or the look of guilt that momentarily flashed over the man's face, but he heard the concern in his voice when he next spoke.

" I thought you were happy there." Chuuya's reply was slow in coming, his mind edging ever closer to the line that separated wakefulness from unconsciousness.

"I am most of the time, I've got people I care about there, and I do like my job but…" A soft sigh escaped from his lips, "Sometimes I just want to be free."

Dazai didn't reply and so Chuuya begrudgingly forced open his tired eyes to look at him, bleary glaring at the man after seeing the miserable expression on his face. It was rare to see Dazai express true emotion, while their time as partners meant Chuuya had probably sent it more than anyone else, it had only been on rare occasions like when a long mission had them strung out and tired or they were stuck in a situation that was truly dire. To have Dazai sitting in his living room now, emotions bare on his face, ticked Chuuya off.

"Oh stop looking like someone kicked your weretiger, I'm not looking for your pity. F*** I don't even know why I told you, it's those d*** drugs." Even with his brain addled as it currently was, Chuuya was well aware of the way the medicine lowered his inhibitions and made it easier for him to say things he usually was afraid to. It was one of the biggest reasons he hated being on painkillers, even though he knew it was unlikely he'd blurt out anything he didn't actually secretly want to say he had enough secrets that could be dangerous if the wrong person heard, that it scared him.

"Without the drugs...You wouldn't have ever told me, would you?" Chuuya had been drifting off to sleep when Dazai finally spoke again, something that sounded somewhat like reproach mixed into his voice and a bitter laugh escaped from Chuuya's lips.

"Dazai I trust you with my life but I know better than to trust you with my feelings; that would be like playing Russian Roulette with multiple bullets, I'm more likely to get hurt then end up safe."

"I…." Whether Dazai was going to protest or apologize or do something else, Chuuya didn't know, but he cut the man off before he could finish,

"Just leave it Dazai, I'm tired let me sleep, just forget I ever said anything." Normally Chuuya knew Dazai would protest, but there must have been something in Chuuya's voice that stopped him in his tracks and forced him to acquiesce.

"Go to sleep Chuuya." He heard Dazai order, in a soft tone as he began to do just that. "We'll talk about this some other time."

When he awoke hours later it was with a blanket covering him and a message on his phone from Mori letting him know he'd been informed of his injuries and his time off was increased to two weeks, but that they would be having a talk when he got back.

Burying his face in the coach, Chuuya let out a loud groan, he couldn't remember everything that had happened but he remembered who had been there and had to be responsible for this.

"F***cking Mackerel"


End file.
